


Fallen (trying to find my way back to you)

by RainbowJeff



Series: Angel (she flies as my heart soars) [2]
Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Do it, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mom Eda, Pain, Redemption, ah yes trauma, how to tag: a guide for dummies, literally everyone is depressed, my favorite, or you will not understand a single thing that is happening, read the first work in the series, where do I find a copy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28837383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowJeff/pseuds/RainbowJeff
Summary: After the invasion of the Angel's Isles, Luz and co face uncertainty on how to proceed with their lives. The Isles are overrun with demons, the surviving angels seek asylum on Earth, and the world feels a darkness spreading.The aftermath of everything is not a pretty one.
Relationships: Amity Blight & Luz Noceda, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Luz Noceda & Willow Park
Series: Angel (she flies as my heart soars) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114493
Comments: 136
Kudos: 344





	1. Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE FIRST WORK IN THE SERIES FIRST!!!!!
> 
> To all those returning, welcome back to the shit show. I'm putting the Karate AU on hiatus, because really, it was a bad idea to start another series right now.
> 
> Enjoy! Or don't...
> 
> Edit: ALSO, I and a few other TOH writers have made a discord server! It’s open to everyone who wants to join, get to know new people, talk about TOH + other fandoms, get recommendations for fics, etc. 
> 
> Link: https://discord.gg/6ud4TMc445

**Luz’s POV**

_She stands, feeling weightless and insubstantial while two figures crash down from the sky in front of her. Everything is grey, dark from the smoke and ash, thick and choking._

_The ram-horned demon is there, skin the same shade as the ash-grey sky, molten red eyes crinkling at the corners with humorless amusement. Luz watches, trying so desperately to struggle forward, but she’s made of nothing more solid than the ash floating around her._

_She feels as heavy as lead, yet as light as air._

_The demon, grinning, leans back from the angel held captive under him._

_It’s Amity._

_Luz tries to scream while the archangel lifts her head, but she doesn't have a voice. Amity’s eyes are dull, face bruised and battered from the fall. She looks… frail, skin washed out and paler than usual. The archangel coughs weakly, her words tired and barely more than a whisper._

_“You… did this to me.”_

_She feels herself dissolving away, as powerless to help as a memory or a shadow._

_She watches as that silver knife slides out from Amity’s shoulder blades. She watches as the light quickly fades from the archangel’s eyes, wings turning grey like the ash around them, dissolving into nothingness._

_Amity falls to the ground, limp._

~~~

“NO!”

Luz bolts upright, clutching the rough sheets that are now damp with sweat. Her breath comes in uneven pants as she struggles to control her racing heart. The room is dark, only the faintest slivers of early morning light streaming in through the closed curtains.

_It was just a dream. Just a dream._

_Only a dream._

_Amity is down the hall._

_She’s alive._

_She’s alive, you’re alive, Mami is alive, Eda, King, Edric, Emira, Viney, Gus, Willow, they are all alive._

_You’re safe._

After a few deep, shaky breaths, her heart rate returns to an almost normal rhythm.

The nightmares aren’t new.

Luz’s been having them ever since their group landed on Earth, seeking asylum in “The Owl House”, as Eda calls the glorified shack that they’re now living in. Every night, without fail, night terrors plague her like an illness, bringing death every time she closes her eyes. 

It’s been…

She doesn’t actually know how many days they’ve been here, or weeks for that matter.

Anyhow, each night that Luz’s slept on this _very_ uncomfortable mattress, the dreams haunt her. It’s always the same thing, someone, whether it’s Amity, Willow, Gus, her mother, or all of them, they die and blame it on her. Every time, she feels weightless, unable to move or call out their names. 

And for Amity…

Well, let’s just say that Luz sees the archangel most often in her nightmares.

It’s gotten to the point where no one comes to check on her when she wakes up screaming. The first night, nearly everyone rushed in, Willow and Camila at the front of the pack, fussing over her for a good thirty minutes until she assured them that she was alright. The next morning, her mother and Willow came in.

The next, only her mother. After about a week, no one.

Luz prefers it this way, no one seeing the blind panic on her face, the dried tears lingering on her cheeks. She’s glad that no one forces her to come out of the little room, besides meals and to use the restroom. No one wants to have _the talk_ yet. 

She wonders if Amity can hear her screams. Surely she can, the archangel is only a few feet to her left, and the walls are thin. She wonders if Amity feels a pang in her chest when she hears them, or if the archangel doesn’t give a damn.

_Not an archangel, not anymore. Because of me._

Luz doesn’t want to think of her as fallen, because it makes everything seem more real. 

_My fault. All of it is my fault._

If she had fangs, she’d use them to rip out her own throat.

~~~

**Amity’s POV**

_Her_ screaming wakes Amity up again.

She has her own nightmares, sure, but she doesn’t understand why _the angel_ has to be so vocal about it.

Maybe because every time Amity screams, or even breathes too deeply, the wounds down her back burn with a fury. So she stays quiet. 

Unlike _some people._

Then again, _she_ has always been loud, bubbly and jubilant, warm and impossible to push away- 

_Stop it._

It’s safe to say that Amity has been at war with her own mind, ever since she woke up in this little room with a rickety wooden ceiling. She knows every splinter, every crack in the wood by now, having spent countless hours laying and looking at it while her back screams in agony. 

She knows what happened. 

She knows what it means.

And really, Amity can’t blame _her_ for selling them out now, it would be hypocritical. For one fallen to blame another for their actions. 

That doesn’t mean she can’t be angry at _her,_ furious even sometimes. So angry that she wants to yell and hit things, but of course, that would make her wounds burn even worse. 

It doesn’t mean that she wants to forget everything between them, to beg for Lu- _her_ to hold Amity, to stave away some of the pain that echoes around her heart. 

She still… 

She doesn’t know what she wants.

Amity lays prone, counting the lines in the wooden beams above her. She already knows what the number will be, 246, but it distracts her from the war going on in her head. To forgive or not to forgive, that is the question. To decide to love again, at the risk of a broken heart.

She scoffs.

Her heart is long since broken. The fragments lie in her chest, cutting and sawing at everything that is still whole inside of her. 

Amity’s on number 67 when the door creaks open. Eda pokes a hesitant head in, holding a roll of cotton bandages. She lets out a tiny groan.

For some reason, she expected it to be _her._

“It’s time to change the bandages.”

As the fallen angel makes her way towards Amity’s bed, she doesn’t say anything else. They have a mutual agreement; Eda comes in every morning to tend to her wounds, Amity grits her teeth and lets the woman do it without complaint. Eda does this in place of Lu- _her_ mother, because she can’t stand to look Camila Noceda in the eyes.

They’re the same shade of brown as _hers._

At least Eda’s hands are gentle, careful as she unwraps the bandages from her chest. It hurts, but she bites her tongue and says nothing. The woman sighs, throwing the old ones away, re-doing the wrapping. It’s not a happy sigh.

“They aren’t getting better. Should be scarring over by now.”

Amity purses her lips and doesn’t turn to look at her.

“You should…”

The dam breaks, and bitter words leak out.

“I should what, Eda?”

The woman’s long fingers falter on her bandages.

“Let Camila fix them. I’m no healer.”

Her throat feels thick, and all of a sudden hard it’s to breathe. Amity’s fangs bite into her lip, trying to hold back irate words, or perhaps tears. She doesn’t want to think about Camila in her room, looking at her with pity or perhaps disgust over what Amity put _her_ through. She doesn’t want to have to look at the older angel, and be reminded of _her_ face. 

“No.”

“Kid…”

_“I said no.”_

Eda relents, drawing her fingers away. She can feel the disappointment radiating from the woman, but she doesn’t leave the room. It’s like she’s waiting for something.

Surprisingly, Eda is really the only person Amity can tolerate seeing right now. It’s almost funny, that she has the least amount of bad memories associated with the woman than anyone else here. She doesn’t want to see her siblings, because they’ll baby her. She doesn’t want to see Willow, or Gus for that matter, because Amity’s worried that they’ll try to strangle her.

She doesn’t want to see Viney, and be reminded of what the older angel has with her sister. To be reminded of what she once had with _her._

And, she doesn’t want to see Camila or _her,_ because of the obvious reasons.

“You know, I said to _her_ once, that the next time I ever saw you I’d punch you in the face.”

The woman laughs. Amity can’t remember the last time she heard laughter. 

“Do you still want to?”

“... No.”

She feels a weight shift off of her bed, and Eda moves to take a seat in the chair across from her. When she finally lifts her head up, tearing her eyes away from the blankets, the woman is looking at her sadly. It’s not quite pity, more of a quiet weariness, new dark circles and lines etching Eda’s face.

“I know you blame this on Luz, but it’s not her fault. It’s mine.”

Amity clenches her jaw at the name, hands tightening around the sheets and wounds aching anew. 

“Be angry at me.”

“I’m angry at everyone.”

“... I know.”

The room is quiet, save for the creaking of footsteps above them. 

“We have to talk about this sometime soon.”

“I don’t want to.”

She sounds like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. She could fix this, the physical wounds at least, if she just let Camila heal her. It would take away the pain. 

But, Amity somehow feels like she deserves to suffer this way. To pay penance for what she did to _her,_ to everyone, for making them worry and risk their lives to search for her. All the while she was throwing herself into the thick of things, not really caring whether she lived or died. 

_The angel_ had looked so _scared._

Death probably would’ve hurt less than this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luz: *depressed*
> 
> Amity: *depressed*
> 
> Eda: *depressed*
> 
> everyone else: *depressed*
> 
> the readers: *probably also depressed*
> 
> Me: hehe 
> 
> yes i'm still doing the comment featuring thingy so it would be very cool of you to leave a comment...


	2. Letting yourself go insane is cheaper than therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the title said ^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Liz: i have made a story  
> Us: you fucked up a perfectly good family is what you did. look at them. they've got depression
> 
> Seriously tho, damn it, why must you make these poor gaybies suffer so much ;-;“
> 
> \- Wardides
> 
> I’M SORRY, THE SADNESS IS NECESSARY it will get better eventually ;-;
> 
> Yum I love listening to Russian songs about suicide as I’m writing this ✌️

**Amity’s POV**

The days were starting to warp into one another, bending around the edges into one blurred mass that didn’t seem to have a beginning or an end. Her only way to tell the time was by the rise and fall of the sun, a brief prelude and closer to each day. She welcomed the soft oranges and reds that streamed in through her window, partially hidden by the mass of trees surrounding the shack.

It felt sometimes as if the day sped by faster than a blink of an eye, while others crawled by like the carpenter ants marching across the hardwood floors. All the while, Amity attempts to ignore the throbbing slashes across her back, nasty red reminders of the suffering she’s trying so hard to let fade into her subconscious.

It’s been… weeks. How many, she couldn’t say. 

Three, four, five? Six, seven, eight, nine… ten?

Amity feels her sanity fuzzing at the edges like the changing of the days. 

She knows that the rest of the group are getting antsy, waiting for her to recover. Eda still hasn’t told them everything, apparently waiting for the day that Amity feels like getting out of bed for more than a few minutes just to use the bathroom. She knows that everyone wants to make a plan, a decision on how to move forward, and she knows that they’re getting tired of her.

Tired of expecting her to get better overnight, like magic, like a miracle.

But every morning when Eda comes in to change the bandages wrapping her chest, the woman shakes her head at the archangel.

Well, not archangel, not anymore. Only fallen. A cankerous sore on the rest of the group, a pity and a disappointment. 

She wonders how Eda bore this weight all alone. The woman had told her a few days ago… 

_Weeks?_

… Anyhow, she’d told Amity her story, of how Belos had taken her wings because she had dared to speak out against him. Amity had felt acid rise up in her throat at the tale, feeling a new type of hatred to fixate on besides the kind she felt towards herself. For a short bit afterwards, she’d felt like there was a purpose for her again.

To take down the archangel who’d she’d looked up to for so long. To do something with the unbridled fury in her chest. 

Reality quickly set in once more as the constant throbbing of her wounds beat a rhythm to match her heart’s. 

Amity wasn’t getting better. The deep cuts had scabbed over after a few days, but were reopened again and again as she thrashed from night terrors, not letting herself scream out for _her_ sake. _She_ didn’t need to bear the extra burden of Amity’s nightmares, _she_ obviously had her own to deal with.

Of course, the cruel, sadistic part of her wanted to let her tongue loose, to let out the agonized shrieks that had been trapped inside of herself for so long now. Amity sometimes _wanted_ to make _her_ suffer, to make _her_ understand even a fraction of the torment that she was living through.

What scared her the most was that _she_ might not even care.

_The angel_ might not care whether she screamed her throat raw or kept silent, if she decided to stop eating the food given to her and just fall asleep forever, counting lines in the wood as she faded into permanent unconsciousness.

_Stop it. That’s not true, and you know it._

But… did she know it?

Amity hadn’t seen _her_ in so long, long enough that she was starting to forget why she didn’t even want to see _her._ Why she couldn’t even think _her_ name anymore.

What was _her_ name…?

_Lu-_

_Idiot._

_Don’t do that to yourself._

As much as she tried, Amity couldn’t forget.

~~~

“Amity?”

She groaned, shifting her head to the right, where grey morning light was just starting to beam through the windows. It was early, much too early for Eda to be up and bothering her.

“Cariño?”

If her back allowed it, Amity would’ve sat bolt upright, shifting into a defensive position. Instead, she rolled weakly towards the voice, tilting her head to where Camila Noceda was standing. The older angel watched her with a faint frown, though it was not unkind. Her heart thundered, panic lacing her veins in a way that made her feel more awake than she’d been in awhile. 

Her voice was thick and scratchy from misuse when she spoke. 

“Why are you here? Did Eda put you up to this?”

Amity was almost impressed at how little the words wavered. The older angel merely gave her a faint smile.

“No, she did not.”

Camila moved across the room, feet creaking on the wooden floors as she made way towards the chair Eda usually sat in. She studied Amity, who’s fingers trembled against the sheets as she looked into the woman’s dark eyes.

They _were_ the same as _hers._

An uncomfortable silence permeated the small space, broken only by Camila’s small cough. She repeats her previous question after a minute of awkward quiet.

“Why are you here?”

“Amity. I think you know why better than anyone else. You’re not healing.”

She tries desperately to quell the shake in her hands by twisting them harder into the blankets, but of course the woman notices. The look in her eyes softens, and it makes Amity unreasonably furious.

“Do _not_ pity me. I don’t want it, nor your healing miracles.”

Her voice cracks slightly, a broken note ringing through the room.

“I’m _getting better._ Eda said so.”

Camila suddenly leans forward, trapping Amity's quivering hands between her own. Her hands are soft yet rough, warm and comforting, just like Luz’s… _hers._

_Her. Her. Her._

_No name, a nameless thing, with eyes so bright and a smile that lights up the world-_

_GET OUT OF MY HEAD!_

The older angel seems to sense the turmoil inside of Amity’s mind, for she only clutches the fallen archangel’s hands tighter. She tries to breathe deeply, to contain the screams that want to ring out into the world. She wants to let go and sob into the woman’s arms.

“You _aren’t_ getting better. Physically or emotionally.”

She wants to fall back asleep.

“You can’t heal the hurt inside until the physical pain is gone, and you don’t want the physical pain to go away until the emotional one does. You won’t get better like this, cariño.”

_Physical pain blocks out the emotional pain._

_Physical pain blocks out the emotional pain._

_Physical pain blocks out the emotional pain._

In her head, she’s training at the gym like any normal day, hitting punching bags until her knuckles bleed. She takes a deep breath, raising her stance again to go another round, sweat beading on her brow.

_Normal. What even is normal, anymore?_

“Amity, despite what you believe, you don’t deserve to suffer anymore.”

_Don’t I?!_

She feels tears leaking out of her eyes, falling onto the sheets, while Camila clutches her hands and whispers comforts in a language that _she_ only spoke to Amity in during tender moments. 

She can’t bear this anymore.

“Just do it. Now. Before I change my mind.”

The older angel says nothing, only nodding and releasing Amity’s hands. Camila lifts her shirt, gently unwrapping the bandages. She hisses a slight bit at the pain, like usual, but the angel does it in a way that doesn’t hurt as much. Then again, the woman _is_ a doctor, where Eda is not.

Palms press against her spine, and Amity bites her tongue to keep from yelling out. The pressure is slight, but her back is so tender that any touch makes her eyes water. Camila starts murmuring under her breath a healing spell, and the older angel’s hands grow warm with the miracle flowing through them.

She lets out a heavy sigh of relief as the pain slowly, but surely ebbs away.

The actual _absence_ of burning, throbbing, and stabbing pain makes her feel as if she can breathe again. Like she can actually fill her lungs without worrying about the agony that usually accompanies deep breaths.

Amity feels… not whole again, but like the broken pieces of herself are finally starting to be glued back together.

Camila removes her hands and the soiled bandages, returning to her seat on the spindly little chair. The woman looks at her inquisitively, like how a doctor watches their patient to ensure their recovery. There’s something almost motherly in the gaze as well, a certain fondness in Camila’s warm brown eyes, something makes Amity’s chest ache. 

“How do you feel?”

The words hold a double meaning.

“Better.”

It’s the truth, for once. 

Amity _does_ feel better, not just physically, but like her soul is settling back into her body. Her mind feels clearer, not clouded by the ever present pain that accompanied every waking hour, and the night hours as well.

“That’s good.”

The older angel makes way to stand, and she almost wants to reach and grab the woman’s arm, to beg her to stay and chase away some of the loneliness. 

But she doesn’t, so Camila moves across the room, lingering only once she reaches the doorway.

“You know…”

Her words hold a heaviness, the very thing that Amity had been fearing seemingly about to be thrust into the world, into the small space between them.

_Wait, I’m not ready-_

“Luz cried every night after you left.”

There it was.

Amity’s heart leaps into her throat at the admission, at the _name,_ and she feels phantom pains flaring across her back, taunting her. Her pulse is performing a chaotic dance, nerves alight with electricity and panic.

_Of course Camila blames me for this, of course she wouldn’t just let it be._

But, the older angel doesn’t appear to be angry or spiteful, only melancholy and sorrowful when Amity refuses to meet her eyes.

“She loves you more than you can imagine, and I can assure you that she _never_ wanted to hurt you.”

The woman leaves when Amity doesn’t answer, a knot of emotions lodged in her throat, choking her with self-hatred and the memory of all the awful decisions she’s made. 

_Loves._

_Not loved._

_Why would the sun love something that only tries to hide from its light?_

She doesn’t understand _anything_ anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amity: nO I DESERVE this pain! I don’t want your help! 
> 
> Camila: -__- 
> 
> Camila: Stop being emo and let me heal you before you get an infection 
> 
> WHEEZING over the next chapter, it’s not funny, I just goddamn love writing Boscha (whoops spoilers) not sorry


	3. Uncomfortable Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "amity watching television when a redbull commercial starts playing: is this a joke? is even the TV mocking me now? wtf?"
> 
> \- izi_fiema
> 
> IM CRYING THIS HAS NO RIGHT TO BE THIS FUNNY HJDHJGSKJHDJSGGD wtf... redbull gives you wings.... Alexa this is so sad play Despacito
> 
> ANYWAY this chapter is fuckin LOng and all plot (with gay angst!)

**Luz’s POV**

It’s a rather ordinary afternoon.

Well, an ordinary  _ unordinary  _ afternoon. Nothing about her life is ordinary any more. 

Birds sing outside of her window, flitting through the trees, little splashes of color amongst the pines. There’s several melodies that the birds play, and she’s memorized them all by now. Luz sometimes finds herself humming along with the birdsong, like she’s doing now.

It’s peaceful, at least. 

She can see Emira and Viney sitting outside underneath one of the trees, heads close together in deep conversation. Neither of them are smiling, but then again, no one seems to smile anymore.

Not that Luz sees, anyhow.

Everyone treats her like a porcelain doll, fragile and delicate, as if any harsh words or rough treatment will break her. Maybe it’s because of the nightmares, maybe it’s because of Amity, but she’s starting to get sick of it.

_ I’m not a child. Not anymore. _

Perhaps they’re right. Maybe she can’t handle it. Maybe she can’t handle this.

Luz doesn’t feel like she has much of a place here.

Her mother is the healer, Viney helps her out and also acts as a guard for the house. Gus and Willow also help to guard, and she’s heard that Willow’s started a little garden to bring life around here. The twins provide some comic relief, Luz knows, she’s heard Eda’s frustrated stomping when they pull assorted pranks. 

Eda, of course, provides their asylum, while King gathers information from the other local demons. 

And Amity… is bedridden. 

The one who doesn’t do anything around here is Luz.

She could. She could get up, help around the shack, help her mother make edible meals since Eda has no idea how to cook. She could at least go outside, take a look at Willow’s garden, or even sit under the shade of one of the pine trees. 

She doesn’t.

And after a while, everyone stopped trying to make her. 

So, it’s an ordinary unordinary afternoon when her mother lingers at Luz’s doorway, hands wrung and face tight with something akin to a grimace. She glances up at the sound of Camila’s footsteps, raising an eyebrow when her mother doesn’t say anything at first.

“We’re going to have the meeting now.”

The  _ meeting. _

Luz freezes, staring up at the older angel with eyes as wide as saucers.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

When all of them arrived at the shack, Eda had sat everyone down, save for Amity and Luz who were still unconscious. The woman said that she would explain everything, all the details after all of them were well. 

It was nearly a week later when Amity had finally woken up. She still was nowhere near well enough to sit up and listen to a conversation, so the meeting was postponed.

That week stretched into two, and the archangel wasn’t getting any better. So, two stretched into three, three into four.

It’d been a month and a half.

Luz had tried to keep tabs on Amity’s condition, but neither her mother or Eda would tell her much. It was a sensitive topic, something that much better left alone, for Luz’s own sanity probably.

But now… 

“She’s up?”

“Yes, mija.”

She hadn’t seen Amity in a month and a half, too much of a coward to even step foot into her room. She didn’t know how the now fallen archangel was faring, didn’t know what her emotional state was like, didn’t even know if her sanity was intact.

_ She’s up. Which means she’s better.  _

_ It’s a good thing. _

But Luz wasn’t happy, overjoyed and bouncing off the walls like she should’ve been. She was  _ terrified. _

_ She probably still hates me. She probably can’t even stand to look me in the eyes. _

“Luz… they’re waiting.”

The words left unspoken rang out as clear as the rest.

_ “Amity’s waiting.” _

Camila was watching her digest the information with a semi-concerned look on her face. There was tenderness in her mother’s eyes, a fair amount of melancholy and sympathy, but no pity. The older angel didn’t pity people, not even Luz.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, standing.

“Okay.”

~~~

The living room was as silent as a funeral procession.

All of them sat in different places on assorted pieces of mismatched furniture. Willow and Gus reclined on a pair of wicker lawn chairs, while the twins and Viney were curled up on the sofa, Emira leaning into the angel’s side. King had moved his ‘throne’ from the dining room, placed next to Eda’s leather armchair. Camila and Luz lounged on a few puffy pillows spread across the floor.

Her heart stuttered, stumbling over itself a few times when she spotted Amity.

The fallen archangel was seated on a tall, spindly stool, feet barely brushing against the carpet. Her eyes were firmly fixed on Eda, deliberately ignoring the side of the room where Luz sat. When her heart finally slowed down, it sunk to the bottom of her stomach.

It would’ve hurt less if Amity had slapped her across the face.

Yet… she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the fallen archangel.

Her hair had grown out, ginger roots showing through the limp, faded-out green strands. Amity’s hands were wrung together, and every so often her fingers would twitch slightly. She looked underweight, so, so  _ small  _ without those imposing white wings. 

What really scared Luz was the almost haunted emptiness in her golden eyes, weary lines and dark circles newly drawn on the fallen archangel’s face. She looked older, not in a good way, a heaviness resting on her shoulders.

_ What happened to you? _

A sick feeling in her gut told Luz the answer.

_ Me.  _

From her armchair, Eda cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Everyone turned their eyes towards the woman.

“Belos is dead.”

Nearly everyone let out a small gasp, shock apparent on all of their faces.

_ Well, she was never one for sugarcoating things. _

“We’re not sure how long he’s been dead, but the news came in a few days ago.”

Eda scoffs a bit.

“Good riddance.”

Will and Gus exchange a little glance, something in their gaze that she can’t identify. Her mother stiffens, eyeing Eda with distrust, and little mutters break out across the room. 

“Why do you say that?”

The voice is Viney’s, face twisted into a scowl when Luz looks over. Eda sighs, crossing her legs and running a fingernail up and down the seam of her chair.

“Belos wasn’t a good archangel. He wasn’t this  _ heroic  _ figure to be worshipped and adored. He was a cruel, vile,  _ murderer, _ and his death was a long time coming.”

It’s dead silent.

“Everyone believed that he was immortal, too pure of heart and soul to die, but the truth is more sinister. Belos would take the souls of other archangels, and use them to increase his lifespan. At least, that's what I believe.”

Luz and Camila share a glance.

“It’s how I lost my wings. I used to be an archangel, attending these large, extravagant parties that Belos would sometimes come to. I witnessed him taking another archangel’s soul at one of these events, and so I turned to my sister, begging for her to help me expose this. She, always the rule follower, turned me in.”

“Belos cut off my wings, throwing me down to Earth.”

Murmurs broke out again, Edric and Emira looking especially bothered by this news. She watched Viney wrap an arm around Emira, rubbing comforting circles with her thumb on the archangel’s shoulder. It made her heart pang, to see them so close together and supporting each other.

Unconsciously, her eyes shifted to Amity.

The fallen archangel’s fingers were still shaking, even worse than before. It made her feel sick to see Amity like this, broken and battered, trembling because of her. It made Luz want to throw herself onto her knees, letting out apologies and beg just for the fallen archangel to look at her.

_ I’m sorry! _

_ I’m so, so very sorry…  _

“That’s not why I wanted to have this meeting, however. I wanted to have it… to explain all my actions, I suppose. I know how you all distrust me, still, and I can’t blame you for that. I’ve not been the most straightforward hostess.”

Eda smiles, though it's rather bitter and humorless.

“When Luz showed up here for her second mission, King and I were already on edge. No one had taken an interest before in this shit hole of a town, and we were worried that it was part of an effort by Belos to track us down. We went to the bar every night, waiting for the angels to return. When we spotted you three return, and Luz separate from the rest, we figured that it was a better time than any to get some information. So, King took her.”

Her mother clenched her hands, wearing a displeased expression. Luz rested a hand on her shoulder, reassuring the older angel a bit.

“Luz, the stubborn angel she is, wouldn’t tell us anything, until we offered something in return. Answers about her kind, other half-breeds; answers about demons, things that no one else would be willing to tell her. We used her curiosity against her, and for that Luz, I am so, so sorry. My selfish desires ruined your life, the lives of everyone you loved and cared about.”

She felt numb. Everyone was staring at her with wide eyes, but she only saw Amity, small form trembling, golden eyes wild and looking at everything but her.

“I used her curiosity to get information about the Isles, anything useful towards my longest goal of dethroning Belos. Over the months, I was working on a way to get to the Isles, and I stumbled across an old tome that held long forgotten spells. One of them was on how to craft waystones, relics used to connect two places. King and I were overjoyed, and slaved over long hours to build not one, but two of these very complicated magical artifacts.”

“After several long, tiring weeks, the waystones were completed. We sent one to Luz, to place near Belos’s castle. Our original plan was to sneak into the palace, using the information that she’d given us to help navigate it, and kill Belos. We would’ve been gone before anyone noticed.”

All of them sat still, enraptured by Eda’s tale.

“In celebration of our success, King and I went to the bar and got wasted, apparently spilling our plan in our drunken state. The demons there were hungry for information, riled up from months without conflict, and we were just happy to be noticed, appreciated.”

Eda pauses, face etched with regret. King is silent, almost ashamed besides the woman.

“When we woke up on the floor here, all of our notes and the waystones were gone. That was the morning of the invasion.”

It seemed as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for someone else to break the silence, the tension that had descended over the room. Most of them wore scowls, anger and distress burning in their eyes. Her mother, surprisingly, was the only one that seemed calm, and she eventually spoke up.

“What about the wings? How did the demons get those shadow wings?”

Eda runs a hand through her hair.

“Oh, that? That was the easiest part of the whole thing. Luz left behind a feather, and from there, it was easy enough to make a transformation spell. The magic was corrupted by the demons however, leading to the shadow-like ones you saw, tainted black with malice.”

It felt… heavy.

The atmosphere felt thick, as if the air had turned to honey, drowning and choking all words that might’ve been said. 

_ All of this was my fault. _

Luz could barely stand being in the same room as everyone else. Especially Amity. After all the months, all the little moments they had shared, all the  _ lies,  _ she couldn’t quite believe that the fallen archangel was hearing the truth that had been eating Luz alive all this time. All the guilt was finally bubbling up, and she let out a small, choked sob.

At the sound, Amity finally looked at Luz, only for a moment. 

It was enough.

Those frozen over, ice cold golden eyes held more than words could ever say. They told a long tale of betrayal, heartbreak, distrust, tragedy. Pain and suffering. There was nothing warm, no fire or even glowing coals left in Amity’s eyes when the fallen archangel looked at her. 

There was nothing even close to love left.

Her own heart snapped.

A loud slam came from the back door, causing everyone to jump out of their skins. They all tensed, waiting for a horde of demons to burst into the living room, to finally finish the job they started a month ago. All that greeted them was a voice, high pitched yet also rough, growing closer with the person’s footsteps.

“Eda! Dad’s higher than a kite again so I’m crashing here for a couple days.”

Footsteps round the corner, and a girl now stands in the entrance to the living room. 

The newcomer and the rest of them stare at one another. 

The girl has dyed pink hair, dark clothes torn in several places, whether artfully or by accident, Luz can’t tell. She wears a scowl on her face as she stares at them, and Luz finally notices the extra sky blue eye on her forehead, furrowed in confusion. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, exposing pointed ears, just like an angel’s.

Eda turns in her armchair and takes a look at the girl, letting out a weary sigh when she sees who it is. The girl just seems incredulous after the initial shock has worn off.

“Really?! I thought I was the only stray you took in. Now you’re providing a place for angels?”

The woman rubs her temples in aggravation.

“Boscha, you have the worst timing.”

The girl- Boscha- grins.

“I suppose the house is full then? Doesn’t matter, I’ll just sleep in the backyard.”

She moves towards the sliding door that leads outside. The girl? Demon? Whatever she is, pulls the door open and lingers there, scanning three mistrustful blue eyes across the room. 

“I won’t say anything, but secrets don’t keep well around here, Eda. You and I both know that.”

Boscha steps outside and slides the door shut with unnecessary force. Eda merely rests her head in her hands, letting out a loud groan.

“That’s a conversation for another day. Right now, I need a glass of wine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eda: In conclusion, I'm an asshole
> 
> Everyone: *internal screaming* oh no
> 
> Boscha: *bursting in Kool Aid man style* OH YEAH
> 
> Eda: -__-
> 
> hehe I'm not funny
> 
> ALSO, I and a few other TOH writers have made a discord server! It’s open to everyone who wants to join, get to know new people, talk about TOH + other fandoms, get recommendations for fics, etc.
> 
> Link: https://discord.gg/6ud4TMc445
> 
> (Yes I also put this on the first chapter but double whammy)


	4. These misguided sentiments I still have for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Me during all the current chapters: *Curl up on the floor, try not to cry, fucking **S O B***  
> This Angst is KILLING ME PLEASE SPARE US T-T  
> My poor broken-hearted lumity babies don't deserve dis p a i n >:'(  
> Also finally Boscha has arrived i was wondering when our favorite fidget-spinner-eyed, red-headed demon child would show up XD"
> 
> \- WolfMageHailey
> 
> You know how I said that this series would be less angsty than Ghost of You? Yeah, I lied. And no, they don't deserve to be tortured like this, but the fluff is always sweeter after angst. Also, Boscha is 100% a feral child in this fic, and it's literally the only comic relief y'all are gonna get besides Ed and Em, and maybe Eda.
> 
> ALSO also, song for this chapter is In A Sentimental Mood by Ella Fitzgerald, because it's Gay Yearning in a song >__<
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xaON77y1cL4

**Amity’s POV**

That was… harder than it needed to be.

_She_ was still so alive, even after all these weeks, despite the things that might’ve worn _her_ into something unrecognizable. Amity knew that in comparison, she looked like death warmed over, an empty husk of her former self. 

The two of them now shared the same purple bruise-like shadows under their eyes, at least.

It felt like a small victory, a point in her favor, to see some evidence of suffering in Luz’s eyes. A victory not fairly won, but a victory nonetheless. If everything now felt like a loss, was it wrong to consider someone else’s pain as a win?

Of course, there was that annoying little voice buzzing around in her head, whispering doubts, causing her resolve to not _ care _ anymore waver.

_ But Amity, don’t you remember when you said you’d never be the one to hurt her? _

_ Don’t you think that this hurts her? _

“Why does it matter if  _ she’s  _ the one hurting, when _ she _ left me like this!?”

The words slipped out of her mouth, an outburst that seemed to leave a wake of silence in its midst. The room felt colder, quieter. 

Why did it matter? It was a promise made to herself long before all this, an empty vow made to stave off some of the inadequacy she felt, a promise to  _ feel  _ for something again. Someone. It was a foolish thing Amity had declared, if only so she could walk into the sunlight without feeling it’s burn. 

But, burn it had, regardless of any vows she’d made. What did she expect, of course the flames would turn her heart to ash if she held it on a stake over an open fire.

_ Promises are better kept broken, anyway. _

Seeing  _ her  _ again had hurt, violently, a hungry flame looking for anything to burn inside of her chest. Seeing  _ her  _ still alive, still healthy, still functioning as someone should, had hurt more than she could ever describe. How was it fair, that  _ she  _ could still be whole, while Amity was nothing more than a few broken shards of glass lying on the floor?

Why did Lu-  _ she  _ get to still live, whole, while Amity felt like her life was only suffering prolonged?

_ Why did it end up like this? _

In a fair world, in a world where she could be selfish and have things her way,  _ the angel  _ should be the one suffering, the one who had to deal with  _ this.  _ Having no wings, no pride, no soul, no reason to carry on. It was only the fair price to pay for having done this to Amity, to everyone.

_ … Do you really believe that? _

_ Would you really give Luz your pain, when you only wanted to protect her from it before? _

Amity winced at her subconscious’s use of the name, something that she would much rather forget. Forgetting things seemed to be just as daunting of a task as forgiving them nowadays.

She recalled something that Viney had once told her, when the older angel was trying to teach her a human card game. Amity had just put all her chips in the ‘pot’, confident in her hand for the first time that night. Viney leaned backwards in her chair, matching her bet, but not putting all her chips in. They’d both lain their cards down, Amity groaning and the angel merely grinning when she had the winning hand.

_ “Well Blight, you had a good hand, I’ll give you that. Not good enough to warrant going all in, but a good hand nonetheless.” _

She’d scoffed, saying something about Viney telling her to take more risks.

_ “True, but you should never put all your chips in one pot unless you’re absolutely sure. Good life lesson there, not just for poker.” _

Amity hadn’t understood what the angel had been trying to tell her then.

She did now.

She’d taken all the things that made her happy, and made them about  _ her.  _ Training in the gym, once a way to clear her head, turned into sparring practice with  _ her.  _ Taking a flight around the Isles had turned into playing sky tag with  _ her,  _ like a couple of children. Curling up on the couch with a good book turned into Amity cuddling with  _ her  _ in front of the fireplace, while  _ she  _ made that hot chocolate the archangel loved, occasionally kissing Amity on the forehead.

All of her happiness had turned into  _ her. She  _ had become Amity’s happiness.

Unconsciously, the fallen archangel had put all her chips in one pot, confident that she had the winning hand for once in her life. Then fate had turned against her. 

Now, there was nothing left to gamble.

Amity couldn’t even love the things that once brought her joy, for all of it was intermixed with pleasant and warm feelings of  _ the angel. _ She had nothing left, and no energy to find something new.

She’d lost.

If she was back at home, surrounded by all the photos that they’d taken together, Amity would’ve thrown them to the floor and crushed them beneath her heel. Then, she would’ve burned the remnants.

Now, there were no physical reminders of their time spent together, only the pain in Lu-  _ her  _ eyes when she’d looked at the fallen archangel. A pleading sort of thing, perhaps for forgiveness, or a silent wish to stop the agony and nightmares.

That small thing, that small bit of suffering; yes, it was a victory to her.

At the very least, she wasn’t alone in her misery.

~~~

**Luz’s POV**

This was an awful idea, really.

She held a plate of food in her hands, lingering in the hallway just a few feet from Amity’s door. The plate was hot, burning her hands from being fresh out of the microwave, but the sensation was a welcome distraction from the turmoil raging inside of her chest. 

Luz went over the plan again.

She would drop the food off, maybe say something if the fallen archangel actually accepted it. Try to get Amity to look her in the eyes.

It wasn’t a very good plan, to say the least. But she had to try.

Luz couldn’t keep living like this, afraid of her mistakes to the point where the two of them couldn’t be in a room together for longer than fifteen minutes. 

_ Just give her the food, and leave. _

_ One step at a time. _

Mustering every last bit of her courage, she stepped towards Amity’s room, knocking her free hand on the doorframe. The fallen archangel didn’t look up, still staring out the window with her shoulders hunched over. Her room was clean, but coldly impersonal, nothing that might distinguish it from any one else’s present.

“I don’t want anything, Eda.”

Amity’s tone was flat, monotone, as empty as the space she lived in.

“It’s not Eda.”

Her heart thudded erratically as the fallen archangel turned around, skipping beats every now and again. Amity’s eyes didn’t widen with shock, nor did her face betray anything, features kept purposefully blank. The only thing that gave her away was the sudden shaking of her fingers, which she quickly twisted into her blanket.

Luz swallowed, holding the food out slightly.

“I brought you dinner.”

The fallen archangel’s golden eyes were so  _ cold,  _ just like they used to be.

“I don’t want anything to eat.”

The first words Amity had spoken to her in over a month and a half were filled with a kind of quiet fury, measured and even, but Luz could hear the hidden rage.

It  _ scared  _ her.

“Amity-”

She could see teeth clenched behind pursed lips, Amity’s face finally betraying emotion.

“Do  _ not  _ speak to me like that. Don’t talk to me like, like-”

“Like I still care about you?”

Luz watched as the fallen archangel’s anger finally bubbled over, all the bitterness, hatred, blind rage leaking out as she stood. Cords of muscle stood out in Amity’s arms when she clenched her fists, little scars whitening on her knuckles.

“Take your food and leave. I don’t want to see you, or speak to you unless I have to.”

She felt something sink lower into her stomach, a knot of emotions stuck in her throat as she tried to speak. Guilt? Anger? Concern, or even residual love still left over? It was a confusing blend, only further choking her as Amity moved towards the door.

Luz stood stubbornly, clutching the plate tightly for fear that she would drop it.

“You need to eat something.”

The fallen archangel stopped, a mere hair’s breadth away from her. From this distance, Luz could see that her whole body was shaking. Whether it was from rage or something else, she couldn’t tell. Amity’s eyes were rimmed with red, making the gold of her irises stand out even brighter, filled with that same quiet fury as her voice.

When she spoke, it was soft, but not gentle.

“I don’t want your food. I don’t want your care, or your compassion, or your pity. I want  _ nothing  _ from you. I don’t want you to speak to me, or even look at me. We’re done.”

Amity placed a hand on her chest, pushing Luz backwards and out of the doorway.

“It’s over, Luz.”

Then, she slammed the door in her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively-
> 
> Amity: *goes to push Luz out the door but stops*
> 
> Luz: ... Amity
> 
> Amity: shut up, I might be furious at you but I'm still gay
> 
> Luz: ... 
> 
> Amity: a b s 
> 
> Luz: ... 
> 
> hdsghaghfghlsahsdhggj why is that so funny in my head


	5. Rebirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I did something similar to @cymki, where I was excited to see the previous story was completed before falling into this one. No pun intended. I'm hooked though. You've managed to get me to diverge from blindly shipping Luz and Amity. I'm fuming at what Luz did, to her friends, her family, and her home. Amity is entirely in her right to feel livid at Luz, she was _maimed_ , lied to, and an involuntary accomplice to a coup; that fucks with you.
> 
> While Luz may have gone along with Eda's terrorism plot for the "right" reasons, she never gave Amity any agency in whether or not to participate. Luz was too oblivious to piece together her best friend's feelings for her, so I guess we can't fault her for failing to apply logic in helping Eda. It doesn't make it right though, and I hope Luz goes through some growth in this story. She's really fucked up, and Amity deserved better. All of Luz's friends and family deserved better. Ugh, Jeez, I'm so invested.
> 
> Great story, I'm really loving what you've done so far. I came in for lumity, but now I'm not so sure Luz deserves Amity. And that's a testament to your writing skills. Kudos!"
> 
> \- shyan
> 
> I really, really love comments like this, and let me tell y'all why. First of all, it means that people care enough about my story to try to find the deeper meaning, and that means a lot to me as a writer. Secondly, I love the fact that people are getting why I can't just let Luz and Amity try and rebuild their relationship right away. Amity already had trust issues before Luz, and finally giving her heart up only to have it broken really fucks with a person (I can speak from experience), so she's not going to love Luz again for a very long time. And Luz... she's a naive kid who wasn't ready for the world yet. The two of them need to grow seperately before they can think about learning to be with each other again.
> 
> Ok yeesh that was heavy

**Willow’s POV**

Dirt clung to her fingers and her clothes, to the small trowel she was using to upturn the hard earth. Small plastic containers with potted flowers stood nearby, patiently waiting to be planted, petals heavy with condensed mist and morning dew. 

It was quite peaceful this early, a soft gray fog curling through the trees that had yet to burn off with the morning sun. The forest was still, birds not yet awake to sing their melodies.

Willow loved the birds almost as much as she loved flowers.

Back on the Isles, they didn’t have birds, or any other animals for that matter. Only flora, but even that was limited to specific trees and bushes that grew naturally on the Isles. She often had her dads bring home new flowers and other plants from Earth when they came back from missions, to grow in the greenhouse.

But the  _ birds,  _ they were probably the thing Willow loved most about Earth. Their feathers were such bright colors; blues, reds, even the many shades of brown and grey and black that she loved equally. 

They reminded her of the multicolors of angel wings, one pair never quite the same as another. 

Willow had seen a flock of starlings one afternoon, the name she’d later learned from Eda, and was absolutely mesmerized by their obsidian black feathers. She had glanced back at her own wings, extending them, noting how the color was very nearly the same as hers.

Then again, she didn’t just enjoy the birds, but the squirrels, rabbits, foxes, and whatever else came creeping out of the woods to greet their newest neighbors.

Maybe she wasn’t just in love with plants, but wildlife in general.

New flecks of earth splattered her forearms as she dug her trowel into the dirt again, loosening the soil. Gardening was always something soothing to her, a chance to get away from the dramas of life, from the chaos and the noise-

A loud snore coming from her right shocked Willow out of her head.

_ Right… almost completely peaceful and alone. _

The demon girl, Boscha if she remembered correctly, was stretched out beneath one of the nearby pines, head propped on a rock. It looked rather uncomfortable, sleeping like that on the cold ground, but she’d been out like a light ever since Willow had woken up.

Granted, it was still very early. 

She rocked back on her heels, sitting back on the ground from her previous squatting position, eyes shifting towards Boscha. 

Her pink hair was falling out of its bun, most of it now escaped than held in the hair tie. Her clothes were dirty, perhaps from rolling around on the ground, and crumpled. Her boots were splattered with mud.

_ Messy. _

Willow didn’t know much about the demon, their first semi-meeting yesterday afternoon having been brief and impersonal. But if she had to pick a word to describe Boscha, she would choose messy. Or rough.

She returned to taking out her frustrations on the dirt, the girl still fast asleep. 

A beam of sunlight illuminated the ground in front of her as she worked, finishing the last of the tilling and removing roots and rocks. Today, she would be planting the white daffodils that Eda had picked up for her at some place called Home Depot. 

Humans have… strange names for things.

The flowers were still budding, only a couple blooms fully emerged. Willow liked them better that way, she could watch them grow and bloom herself. The daffodils’ petals were nearly translucent as the sun hit them, delicate and fragile.

_ Rebirth. _

That’s what the flowers symbolized, and heaven knows they all needed it. 

Somewhere in the trees, a robin started singing, the first one of the day. Willow smiled at the familiar sound, new energy filling her limbs. She reached for one of the daffodils, pulling it from its container, gently setting the flowers into the hole she’d just dug. This bit couldn’t be rushed, as the roots needed to be covered with just the right amount of potting soil-

“Hey, Flowers, isn’t it a bit early to be gardening?”

A voice, rough and heavy with sleep, sounded from her right. Gritting her teeth in frustration, Willow set the daffodil down and turned towards the demon.

Boscha was rubbing her eyes, the one on her forehead blinking rapidly in an attempt to focus in on the angel. She felt a small scowl appear on her face at the nickname.

“It’s Willow.”

The pink-haired girl fully sat up, stretching her arms up and leaning against the pine. She grinned at Willow, a crooked little thing that the angel didn’t fully trust.

“What, your parents didn’t think you looked like an Ivy or a Lily, so they settled for Willow? Fitting name, I guess.”

Boscha gestured towards the flowers.

She crossed her arms, looking the demon dead in her sky blue eyes. The eyebrow above the uppermost eye raised, and the girl merely let out a yawn. 

“If I remember correctly, your name is Boscha? Interesting choice.”

Willow hadn’t meant it in a particularly nice way, but the demon girl only smirked and studied her fingernails, apparently little offense taken.

“It’s demonic; but believe me, I once met a chick named Htebazile, so it’s not the most unique one out there.”

She hummed, and picked up the daffodils again, turning her back towards Boscha. The petals looked more vibrant than before, as if they were soaking up the sun and relishing the warmth. It would be a perfect morning if the present company had picked another tree to rest under.

_ Please go back to sleep. _

It wasn’t that Boscha’s company was unpleasant… but Willow wanted peace and quiet, and… it wouldn't be a bad thing if she never saw another demon for the rest of her life. 

But here one was, with an extra eye to remind her of it as well. 

“What’s the damn point of this anyway? Can’t you just use fancy miracles to grow your flowers instead of waking up at hellish times to do this?

She sighed.

“The  _ point  _ of this is that it’s soothing for me. And, using miracles to grow things seems to defeat the purpose of that.”

Willow set the daffodil she was holding into the hole, covering the roots with a small amount of soil, when the crackling of leaves caused her to pause a little. Her hands slowed their movements as the sound of footsteps approached stopping just a few feet away. She glanced up to find Boscha leaning against the side of the house, wearing her hair down and a scowl.

“So, you’d just do things by hand because you’re too good to use your magic.”

The demon sounded bitter, and the tone piqued Willow’s curiosity just a bit.

“No… I’m not too good to use miracles.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes a slight bit at the angel.

“Don’t demons have magic anyway?”

Boscha pursed her lips, letting the scowl drop from her face and morph into a tired-looking expression. 

“Nothing useful.”

Willow studied the girl carefully, noting the way her tone suddenly lost its teasing lilt, blue eyes dimming ever so slightly as her face became guarded.

“Nothing good, I should say. My magic is pretty useful for setting my dad’s drug stashes on fire.”

A sudden silence cut through the mist and chill of the morning air. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? You don’t know me.”

_ Why am I apologizing to her? It’s not my place to get involved with a demon’s family life. _

She ran a thumb over the small petals, little pieces of satin brushing against her fingertip. Boscha’s strikingly blue eyes caught her gaze once more, a certain sternness in them as opposed to the carefree teasing before. Willow felt a throb of something inside of her when she looked at the demon, perhaps discomfort.

“Stop staring at me like that.”

Almost ashamed, Willow glanced away.

“I don’t know what my _ kind  _ did to you or your friends, but I think you’ll find that I have a bit more humanity than most of ‘em.”

Boscha pushed herself away from the wall, looking down at the daffodils Willow had yet to plant, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I’d keep me away from your plants if I was you, Flowers. I’m no gardener, but something tells me that fire and daisies don’t mix well.”

The girl yawned again, giving Willow a second’s glimpse at pointy white fangs, just like hers, before turning on her heel and walking away with hands shoved into her coat pockets.

She watched Boscha go for a moment, before turning back to the flowers and jabbing her trowel into the dirt.

“They’re daffodils, demon.”

Of course, the girl didn’t hear her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Willow: *innocently gardening*
> 
> Boscha: hEy fLoWeRs, yeah you, you're a selfish asshole for not using miracles to grow your plants!!11!1
> 
> Willow: girl, I barely know you and I'm already tired of your shit
> 
> Boscha: fuck you, all I'm good for is committing arson >__<
> 
> Willow: ... 
> 
> hello yes Willow pov time because I need to give the Amity and Luz spare chapters to get some of their marbles back in the bag -__-


	6. The adults are done with everyone’s bullshit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I’m with Boscha on this one if someone wakes me up that early I’d commit arson too”
> 
> -YMIhere
> 
> Please no one ever wake me before 12 on a weekend, will murder you 😌
> 
> Merry valentines y’all... you may have some therapy... as a treat

**Amity’s POV**

“Get up.”

Someone yanked the covers off of her bed, and Amity shivered, blinking the sleep out of her eyes in an attempt to focus in on the person who’d woken her up. As her vision cleared, she found Eda standing over her bed, hands on her hips and wearing a scowl. She squinted, letting out a yawn.

“What’s going on?”

The woman nudged the side of the bed with her knee, clearly expecting Amity to get up now.

“You and I are going to spend some quality time together. No more lazing around, no more moping, no more brooding over Luz.”

She grit her teeth, rolling over to face away from Eda, who in response yanked the pillow out from under her head. Amity let out an indignant cry, sitting up and rubbing the side of her head ruefully where it had slammed into her mattress. She fixed the fallen archangel with a glare, and the woman glared right back, tapping her bunny slipper covered foot impatiently. 

“You had a right to lay in bed all day when you had open wounds across your back. Now that they’ve healed, I’m expecting you to pull your weight.”

Eda held her hand out, face softening ever so slightly.

“Trust me kid, I’m doing you a favor. The first few months are always the roughest.”

Begrudgingly, she took the woman’s offered hand, cracking her neck as she stood.

The sun was barely in the sky, a sort of permanent gray haze settled over everything that she could see. As far as Amity could tell, no one else awake besides the two of them. She breathed a small sigh of relief when they stepped out of her room and found everyone asleep in the living room; Ed on the pullout couch, Em and Viney on an air mattress. No one woke as they quietly made their way through the house.

_ No chance of running into  _ her.  _ That’s good… I suppose. _

Eda led her outside, and she faltered a little upon seeing Willow already up and gardening, planting flowers with an unusually tight expression on her face. Amity didn’t say a word, but the angel looked up briefly when Eda gave her a wave.

“Morning, Plant Girl. Up early again I see?”

Willow scowled, throwing her trowel down and standing, wiping off the flecks of dirt that covered her arms.

“What is with everyone calling me something else this morning? I have a name.”

The raven-haired angel stormed off, angrily brushing the earth off that still clung to her clothes on her way back inside. Eda merely raised her eyebrows and shrugged, continuing to lead Amity to wherever they were going.

“Wonder what wilted her flowers this morning.”

She didn’t say anything.

Eventually, the woman rounded the side of the shack, revealing a sort of open barn tacked on to the end of it. There were bales of hay, for some reason, pitchforks and shovels and other tools laying around. The area had no walls, only a large overhang with a red-tiled roof and several wooden beams that supported it. 

Eda stepped towards the side of the house that the roof hung off of, reaching behind a hay bale and pulling out two sticks. Upon further inspection, as the fallen archangel held one out to her, Amity realized that they were wooden swords; not unlike the ones she used to train with as a child. The sight brought a wave of nostalgia flooding through her chest.

“Take it.”

Hesitantly, she accepted the sword.

A sudden quiet settled between them, a peace as soft and lazy as the curling fog. 

“So, kiddo, don’t you want to know why I dragged you out here?”

Amity pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, hoping to appear disinterested.

“I have a feeling you’ll tell me even if I say no.”

Eda laughed, a sudden booming thing, dragging a long fingernail down the side of her own sword as she studied Amity. The woman gazed intently at her, and she resisted the urge to squirm; it felt like Eda was staring right into her soul.

“Tell me, on a good day, how many demons do you think you could hold back before they overwhelmed you?”

She freezes, looking up at the fellow fallen archangel with wide eyes. Memories plague her, flashes of the battle that seems so long ago now, her fighting to stay flying while demons bombard her from all directions. The screams that echo around her. The terror. The death.

_ Her  _ voice, yelling Amity’s name with desperation.

“Kiddo?”

She snaps back to the present, absentmindedly picking at her fingernail.

“Maybe a hundred. Maybe more. I never had the chance to count.”

To her credit, her voice doesn't shake or waver, coming out as flippant. The woman still sees right through her, fixing Amity with a piercing yellow stare, her eyes a shade of gold not unlike the Blight family’s. 

“How many demons do you think are in this town alone?”

When she doesn't answer, Eda does for her.

“Thousands. Maybe less now that they’ve inhabited the Isles, but still thousands. What do you think will happen if they catch wind that all of you are hiding here?”

_ They’ll kill us. All of us. _

Amity shivers, and the woman nods.

“You’re out of practice, and weak. I say you could take maybe ten demons now before they overpower you. That’s not very impressive against a thousand of them, kid.”

She doesn’t say a word, casting her eyes down to the straw-covered ground and lets Eda continue.

“So you can take ten demons. Your siblings aren’t fighters, so they can take maybe ten a piece as well. Gus is a scholar, and Willow gardens. Camila is a healer. Viney, sure, she’s probably the strongest out of all of us, so lets say she can handle a hundred demons at max. King is probably next, then me. And Luz… she still has a long way to go.”

“Do the math for me, Blight. It can’t be much more than two hundred demons that we could handle at once, and there are  _ thousands.” _

Amity grits her teeth, grip tightening around the wooden sword as the fallen archangel’s words only cause her spirits to drop further.

“What are you saying then? That it’s hopeless to even try? Why bother training me, if that’s what you want to do, if the end result is that we’d be overrun anyway?”

Eda smiles.

“I want to help you start living again.”

_ … What? _

“You don’t have to kill a thousand demons.”

The woman steps forward, poking her softly in the chest with a single boney finger.

“You just have to kill the ones inside of you.”

~~~

**Luz’s POV**

“Get up, cariño.”

As she rolls towards the voice and rubs her eyes, Luz finds her mother standing at the door frame, arms crossed. The light streams through her blinds, illuminating the room with a soft morning glow. Cold air seeps through the window, and she wants nothing more than to stay in bed.

“Luz.”

Camila’s tone holds no room for argument, so she groans and removes the covers, shivering as the cold hits her skin.

“It’s early.”

“It’s almost ten.”

The thing is, Luz used to be a morning person, though the months have slowly worn away at her old habit of waking up at 7am sharp. With the nightmares waking her at ungodly hours, she finds herself sleeping later and later to compensate.

Definitely not because she doesn’t want to face the world.

Definitely not because she doesn’t want to face Amity.

“Another nightmare?”

“... Yes, Mami.”

Luz doesn’t know why her mother asks. The nightmares haven’t ceased in their intensity or their frequency since she got here; if anything, they’ve gotten worse. Last night was particularly awful, due to the fallen archangel’s outburst the day before.

_ “I want nothing to do with you.” _

_ “I wish you had lost your wings instead of me. I wish you were dead.” _

“Well, mija, today you’re going to get up and do something productive. No more moping around, no more laying in bed until late afternoon. You have to move on.”

She doesn’t  _ want  _ to move on. It was easier to wallow in self-pity, feeling sorry for herself and brooding silently under the blankets. It wasn’t easy to  _ move on,  _ because one doesn’t just move on from someone like Amity Blight. She couldn’t just forget and put behind herself the way she could make the archangel smile; all bright and brilliant, the special smile she gave no one else.

She couldn’t put behind herself how that smile made her feel, how the very depths of her heart warmed at the sight of it. 

She couldn’t put behind herself how it felt to love someone, so assuredly, no fear that anything could ever come between the two of them.

She missed loving Amity.

“Luz.”

“Mmm.”

Camila sighed.

“Go outside. Say hi to Willow. Just  _ talk  _ to your friends, even for a short while. Get some fresh air.”

When Luz didn’t respond, her mother simply walked over to the bed and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. The older angel smiled, a small thing, filled with all the tenderness and care in the world. Her smile told Luz a thousand things.

_ I’m here. _

_ I’m beside you. _

_ It’s okay to take your time. _

_ But you have to try for me, alright? _

Feeling her throat well up with emotion, she swallowed thickly to get rid of the lump. She found that no words came, so Luz nodded, and her mother’s smile warmed just a little.

“I hear that the boys are building a small cabin, for extra space. Heaven knows we need it.”

Camila frowned, but she saw the corner of her mother’s mouth curve upwards with slight amusement.

“Eda keeps stealing my toothbrush.”

Somehow, Luz manages a small laugh, and the sound shocks both the older angel and her. It feels  _ good  _ to laugh. It feels  _ good  _ to have something to laugh about, even if it is just over her mother complaining about Eda.

Despite everything, she feels a smile creep onto her face.

It feels  _ good  _ to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eda: you are a helpless, spineless loser
> 
> Amity: ... is this supposed to make me feel better?
> 
> Camila: Luz... sweetie, I’m going to smack you with my shoe if you don’t get out of bed
> 
> Luz: ok mom
> 
> Look! These bitches gettin therapy! Good for them.


	7. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You always have the best endnotes, lmao.
> 
> I FUCKING LOVE EDA AND AMITY BONDING!!!!!! YESSS GIMME MORE!!!! Also I really appreciate the line Eda had about Amity killing her inner demons.
> 
> I also like Camila finally pulling Luz out of bed to go do something/start to heal. I wonder if she's gonna teach her more healing magic? I can see her helping to build the cabin because imo Willow would prefer to garden alone/have some peace and quiet (which has now been jeopardized by Boscha lmao).
> 
> Thanks for writing!”
> 
> \- hyacinth (Lexa_Alycia)
> 
> EDA! AMITY! BONDING! SUPREMACY! While I can’t spoil anything (mainly because I have no idea what the hell I’m doing lmfao), Luz is absolutely going to help build the cabin... take that how you will....
> 
> ALSO hello y’all, I wanted to post this chapter awhile ago, but Texas said “fuck you, I’m going to have a winter storm that steals your WiFi”, so I just now got internet back

**Luz’s POV**

_ “Reports are coming in about a multi-car pileup on I-35, up to about seventy five cars involved in the crash. Despite this horrific accident, it’s not even the first one this week; there was another hundred car pileup on I-35, barely even twenty miles from-” _

Click.

_ “-the worst part, we’re facing an unprecedentedly cold winter this year, temperatures ranging from the low thirties to negative twenty all across the country-” _

Click.

_ “Storms continue to blow in from up north, bringing heavy snow and sleet. Prepare yourselves in case of an emergency, with extra food, bottled water-” _

Click.

_ “-best efforts to provide a vaccine, the pandemic continues to claim thousands of lives each day, hospitals filled now with COVID patients and those fighting to stay out of the cold.” _

Click.

_ “God has abandoned us for our sins! He sends a plague to sweep across the land, now a winter storm to make us repent! Where are the angels, our messengers from Heaven? They have abandoned us, along with our good morals and our faith! They have left us, to fend for-” _

Luz presses the power button, and the TV flickers off, image of an angry preacher turning dark. 

She can see why Eda never watches the news. It only aims to stir up people, to get them agitated and anxious about all the bad things that are happening.

She can’t deny that things have been steadily getting worse since they’ve been on Earth; it’s as if the mass genocide of her kind has set the world on fire. Or encase it in ice, if the news stations are to be believed about a particularly heavy winter, even as the days march towards April. Luz has never been particularly superstitious, but even she can tell that without the angels’ influence, humankind is sinking deeper and deeper into the dark.

The late afternoon sun winks at her, peeking out from behind a cloud.

_ Maybe Mami was right. I should go outside. _

Dull, muffled thuds can be heard from her bedroom, and eventually Luz’s curiosity wins out, prompting her to step out of the room. Through the glass sliding doors in the living room, she can see pines trees falling, the source of the noise. 

_ What in the…? _

She moves outside, only to find Gus, Viney, and Edric surrounded by fallen pines. Their stumps were neatly severed, not the product of an ax or a chainsaw; and her answer comes when Gus casts a miracle on the tree next to him, causing the trunk to immediately split at the base and slide sideways. He gracefully steps to the side as the pine falls, causing the ground to shake slightly.

Luz takes a cautious step towards the trio, not wanting to be hit by any errant trees.

Viney catches her eye and looks startled for a split second, before her face breaks into a beaming grin. She waves at Luz, beckoning her over. 

_ Well, so much for lurking around. _

She walks towards them, trying to keep her head as high as possible.

_ Like you didn’t betray them. _

_ Like you didn’t loose them their families. _

_ What gives you the right to speak to them, after everything that you’ve done? _

Luz doesn’t have the right, not really, but she can’t continue to pretend like everything is fine. Earth is in shambles, the Isles are overrun with demons, and most of it is her fault… but she misses her friends. She misses the company of others, as selfish as that is.

At least Viney looks happy to see her, ruffling her hair when she reaches the trio.

“Hiya there, squirt! How’s things been with you?”

Luz smiles, the older angel’s infectious energy causing the heaviness weighing her down to lighten just a little.

“It’s been.”

She laughs, fishhook earring gleaming in the setting sun. The two boys are making their way over, smiles a bit quieter and reserved than Viney’s, but they still seem somewhat happy to see her.

“Fair enough. It’s not been the easiest couple of months.”

The older angel says this simply, without any bitterness or anger at their situation. She merely brightens her smile as Edric and Gus stand next to her, each murmuring their hello’s to Luz.

Their greetings are quieter, sadder, and she suddenly realizes why.

It’s not just that Viney has a more optimistic outlook on life, but the fact that she had less to lose when they left the Isles. The angel had told her a while ago that she didn’t have any family left; both her parents had died on a mission when she was little. Like her, Viney didn’t have that many friends to mourn leaving behind.

Edric had left behind his parents, but the loss wasn’t that heavy. The Blight siblings didn’t care much for their parents, from the bare minimum that they’d told her. No, what really was keeping Edric from looking Luz in the eyes was what she’d done to his sister. All the lying, all the heartbreak, all the pain that she’d put Amity through.

_ It’s a wonder that Ed hasn’t broken my nose yet. _

If there was anything that Edric loved more than practical jokes and messing with people, it was his sisters. If anyone hurt them, he’d make sure they paid for it.

Gus had left his father behind on the Isles. He left behind his greatest passion of learning things, and all his other school friends. Besides that, he was the youngest out of all of them, still fifteen. Still a kid.

“Hi, Luz.”

She nodded at the younger angel, who was doing his best to give her a genuine smile.

“Hey, Gustus.”

Luz missed when the two of them would play discus in the park, while Willow watched on with amusement. She missed when things were simpler. Weekends would be spent in the sun, laughter ringing through whatever place they happened to be, as the three friends gave no thought to the greater workings of the world.

How easy things used to be.

She looked away from Gus, only to find Edric staring at her with a curious expression, something buried deep in his golden eyes.

“How’re you holding up there, Luz?”

The archangel sounded… flat. Serious.

That scared Luz a great deal.

If there was one thing Edric wasn’t, it was serious. He had an almost childlike nature, one that would suit someone several years younger, and one rarely saw him without a grin. The archangel wasn’t grinning now, his tone wasn’t joking like usual, yet his words weren’t unkind. He seemed… adultlike. All grown up and… serious.

It seemed paradoxical in a way; Ed and seriousness went against the laws of nature, like two similarly charged magnets being shoved together. 

She suspected that even with age, the archangel wouldn’t grow out of his jokes.

So it seemed… strange, to say the least, that his eyes weren’t glinting with their usual humor.

“I’m alright.”

“That’s good.”

Maybe he wanted Luz to say that she was suffering. Maybe he was waiting for that admission, that knowledge that she was paying penance for all the lies.

Though, just as Edric wasn’t a serious person, he wasn’t cruel either. She knew that he wouldn’t feel any joy to know that nightmares about his sister dying kept her up in early morning hours. 

When the archangel offered her a small smile, the tiniest bit of humor trickling back into his eyes as he nodded, Luz felt relief flood through her chest.

She didn’t need verbal confirmation to know that he’d forgiven her.

_ Thank you. _

Viney clapped her hands together, startling the rest of them. She rested a hand on Edric’s shoulder while ruffling Gus’s hair, deaf to the younger angel’s indignant protests.

“Well boys, better get back to choppin’ down the rest of these trees, this cabin won’t build itself.”

Grumbling, the two of them turned and strode back into the forest.

Viney turned towards her and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t take it personally, Ed’s been a bit of a funk lately. He seemed almost relieved when I asked him to help with the building, and the guy  _ hates  _ work. Guess he needed something to do to take his mind off things.”

_ Him and everyone else. _

The older angel just rested a hand on her back, steering Luz away from the boys. She raised an eyebrow at Viney, who simply kept walking.

“Move your feet squirt, there’s something I want to show you.”

Begrudgingly, Luz followed her through the now sparse pines, fallen trees littering the ground besides them. A squirrel darted across the grass in front of the two, startled by a snapped twig beneath Viney’s boot, making a beeline for the nearest tree. Birds tittered around them.

She followed the older angel to a spot near the shack, and Luz eventually recognized it as the place where she sometimes saw Viney sitting from her bedroom window. 

Leaning down, she picked up something from the ground and turned, offering it to Luz. 

It was… a stick.

Well, more like a log, half a foot in diameter and stripped of its bark, revealing the pale wood beneath.

The older angel shook it at her slightly, gesturing for her to take it. Furrowing her eyebrows, Luz took the log, half expecting it to jump out of her hand and run away for all the care Viney treated it with. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, she only grew more puzzled.

“Viney… this is a stick.”

Viney gasped, looking almost indignant at the suggestion.

“This is no stick! This is the finest piece of carving wood in this forest!”

The older angel had a half-smile playing across her lips as she took the wood back, running her thumb along the side where it’d been severed from a tree. Her expression turned solemn as she studied the log, voice coming out quiet when she spoke again.

“I’ve been thinking… about the ways we like to distract ourselves after we’ve experienced trauma.”

Luz felt the frown slide off her face, but she still felt that same sense of confusion.

_ Where’s she going with this? _

“When we first landed here, I was a wreck. It may not look like it now, but I felt like my head was spinning on my shoulders, I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. Not even being with Em, watching over her, could put me at ease. It just reminded me of what had happened.”

Leaves rustled in a sudden gust of wind, joining in with the birdsong to make a sort of quiet melody, soft and gentle.

“Back on the Isles, I’d whittle when I had the time, or I felt like making something tangible. Now, I had nothing but time, and a whole forest of material to work with.”

Viney seemed melancholy, a distant, far-away look in her eyes as she gazed up at the tree tops. 

“So, I spent my days carving, nicking my finger and cursing, wondering why I thought this was a good idea. Nevertheless, I carried on, not having anything better to do with the time. Slowly, it felt like my soul was settling back into my body. I started sleeping better. I started to relax, no longer jumping at the smallest noise.”

The older angel turned back towards her, holding the log out again. Luz accepted it without a second thought this time, running her fingers over the smooth and almost soft wood.

“What does this have to do with me?”

Humming, Viney dug her fingers into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out something small and silver. She flicked it open with a quick movement, revealing a polished blade, sharp and shining in the sunlight.

Handle first, she held it out to Luz.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly accept this-”

“Take it, squirt.”

Carefully, she grasped the pocketknife and studied its blade, silver gleaming brightly. She glanced up at Viney, who only seemed content, an easy smile resting on her lips.

“I’ll be too busy to be carving anymore, with the cabin needing building an all. Besides, I think… I think this’ll do you some good.”

Luz felt a lump in her throat, suddenly overcome with a wave of affection for her friend. She gently set the piece of wood and the knife down, wrapping her arms around the older angel. Viney seemed startled at first by the hug, but quickly returned the embrace, squeezing her tightly.

Not trusting herself to look Viney in the eyes for fear that she might start crying, her following words were mumbled into the angel’s shoulder.

_ “Thank you.” _

“Aww, squirt, you’re gonna make me choke up over here!”

Luz chuckled weakly, pulling away and half-heartedly punching her on the shoulder.

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You better come take a look at this” cliche 
> 
> *squints*
> 
> Things aren’t NEARLY gay enough for my liking, but don’t worry, all that will change shortly now that the babies have their therapy 😌


	8. Two girls, sitting on a rooftop...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... five feet apart because they are most definitely gay, but for other people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Wonderfully done! I can finally stop screaming at my phone “GET. SOME. THERAPY.” at these absolute buffoons. Idiots. Imbeciles. I love them. I also hate them right now, but I love them. Luz screwed the pooch, yeah. She blames herself, valid. But these people are still ones you called friend, Luz. You’ve gotta talk to them. Nothing will change, nothing will improve if you just sit and wallow around. In fact, it just makes everything worse. Ugh.
> 
> Well done, and thank you for yet another wonderful chapter. 💜"
> 
> \- the_stars_all_around_us
> 
> These angels gettin therapy! good for them! Luz definitely needs to rely on other people besides Amity, and vice versa, which is why Luz is bonding with Viney and Amity is bonding with Eda. good fun!
> 
> ah yes, Amity has enough mental stability to be gay again. good for her, good for her lmfao

**_Two Weeks Later_ **

**Luz’s POV**

Well, Viney certainly wasn’t wrong about the whole nicking fingers part of carving.

She’d accumulated several new scars on her fingers from the older angel’s pocket knife as she tried to learn how to properly carve with it. The process was painstaking and frustrating, Luz often swearing under her breath when the knife ended up slicing her skin instead of the wood. Her fingers were now covered with small, pinkish scars, along with the more recent cuts.

Currently, she was sucking the tip of her ring finger, a new cut running along the pad. It stung, but not unbearably so.

At least it distracted Luz from the pain in her heart.

She didn’t get why carving was so difficult. Even using pine wood, which was softer than oak or maple, the knife didn’t want to glide smoothly across the wood like it did when Viney was handling it. She’d tried to beg the older angel to teach her, but she’d just chuckled and waved Luz off.

_ “All part of the process, squirt! All part of the process.” _

It was sort of hard to see the process when her material was stained with blood, sweat, and tears.

Okay, maybe she was exaggerating, but not even the stupid piece of wood wanted to work with her. 

_ How am I supposed to heal if all this is doing is making me angry? _

Luz set down the stick with a huff, still nursing her wounded finger. She leaned back against the tree behind her, closing her eyes for a brief moment. She could feel the breeze on her face, caressing the skin with cool fingers, bringing a slight reprieve from the harsh sun. It was an unusually warm day for early spring, so Luz welcomed the breeze.

Granted, it was still very nice outside.

She was glad not to be stuck in the house, to have at least something to do, however pointless it may be. Despite the weeks spent honing her wood carving skills, Luz had yet to have anything to show for it. All the little figures she tried to make looked awful, or had broken, or she’d just given up on them.

At least she was trying.

_ Heavens, even Amity is up and doing something useful.  _

It was no secret that Eda had started training the fallen archangel again, not after she’d gotten curious about all the noise that the two were making. One afternoon, Luz had wandered around the side of the shack, trying to locate where the sound of wood smacking was coming from. 

Much to her surprise, she found Eda and Amity locked in combat, training swords smacking against each other as beads of sweat rolled down their faces. With a pounding heart, she’d rushed to hide around the corner before either of the two spotted her. Luz slowly walked back to her room, sitting heavily down on her bed as she tried to make sense of what she’d seen.

_ I guess I’m the only freeloader around here anymore. _

_ I don’t even have an excuse to be sitting around! She lost her wings, her pride, her very existence, but she’s still trying to live. _

_ All you lost was her. _

The sound of leaves crunching nearby pulled Luz out of her thoughts, cracking open an eye to see Viney approaching her.

“Tired of carving yet?”

She pushed herself off the ground, brushing dirt and bits of dried leaves off of her pants.

“You could say that.”

The older angel laughed, leaning against a nearby pine. Luz noticed that she was soaked in sweat, and wearing a tool belt around her waist along with her two war hammers. Despite that, Viney had a somewhat satisfied expression on her face along with the tiredness, like how one would look if they just finished a particularly difficult task.

“Did you just bench press another tree? You look exhausted.”

The older angel adopted a wounded look.

“That was  _ one  _ time! I thought we agreed not to talk about it.”

“I will keep talking about it until you admit that you only did that to impress Emira.”

Viney rubbed her neck and cracked her back, letting out a small huff. Luz grinned, knowing that she’d won this time. She took the angel’s silence as a confession by itself.

“Ya know, I was going to ask you to help with the cabin, but I’m not sure I can stand your teasing right now.”

_ “My  _ teasing?! That’s a little hypocritical coming from you!”

Despite the playful banter, Luz felt herself relaxing in Viney’s upbeat presence, teasing or no. The older angel was a near constant reminder that she wasn’t totally dead weight, that she was still appreciated as a friend. On the bad days, the knowledge helped her get out of bed.

“Well squirt, I hope you know how to use a hammer better than that pocket knife.”

“... What’s a hammer?”

“Oh, you have to be screwing with me.”

“Yes, Viney. I’m not that much of an idiot.”

“Debatable.”

“Hey!”

~~~

**Amity’s POV**

As her feet dangle over the edge of the roof, she thinks for the briefest moment that she’s developing a fear of heights.

Actually, fear isn’t the right word.

All her life, Amity was used to being able to leap from islands and the tops of buildings, her wings spreading open like almost second nature. Just the same as being able to bend her arm, or open and close her fingers.

She remembers something vividly; standing on the edge of an island as a child, toes hanging over the edge as she stared into the open sky below. Then, ever so slightly, she would lean forward, falling for just a few moments. She’d spread her wings, catching the breeze as she swooped through the sky, feeling the sense of absolute freedom.

Every time Amity would fall, there’d be no reason to fear; her wings would catch her.

Now, sitting on the edge of the rooftop, if she tried the same thing, she’d fall and break her neck. So, Amity was developing this certain… caution towards heights. 

A small fear of falling.

_ It could be almost funny. A fallen angel afraid of heights.  _

But who was laughing? Certainly not Amity. Maybe the wind found it humorous, peals of light laughter blowing past her face, causing the mostly faded green stands of her hair to flutter. 

She exhaled, and the breeze exhaled with her. 

_ There’s no point in thinking about it. _

Below her, Amity could see Gus and Edric still working on the new cabin, which was about halfway constructed at this point. The boys were lifting wooden planks, setting against the frame, then hammering them into place. She was still surprised that her brother was actually working, despite having seen him help with the building before.

Maybe this whole situation was doing him some good.

Viney reappeared from the trees, with… Luz in tow with her.

She grit her teeth and cast her eyes away, towards the horizon.

It still hurt.

A creaking from behind her caused Amity to whirl around, muscles tightening as a pink-haired head appeared over the top of the roof. The rest of the person’s body came into view as they ascended the ladder, revealing a semi-familiar face.

Boscha scowled when she spotted Amity, but stepped onto the roof anyway.

“You stole my place.”

She raised an eyebrow at the demon, who sat down next to her, albeit a few feet away.

“I didn’t know you owned the roof.”

Strangely enough, Boscha’s expression twisted into a smile, though it had an absence of warmth in it. Amity looked at her curiously.

“Well, don’t annoy me, and I might consider letting you stay up here.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you also controlled how I live my life.”

If anything, the girl’s smile only widened into a cheshire-like grin, little bits of humor dancing in her three sky blue eyes. She only grew more confused at how the demon was finding this funny, and it annoyed her enough to pitch a small rock off the roof, somewhat wishing that it was Boscha.

Amity had seen her around often enough, mostly bothering Willow, or snoring excessively while Eda and her trained. She’d seen enough to not want to interact with the girl if possible.

“So, whatcha doin’ up here?”

She could ignore the demon, but she decided to play nice, speaking through gritted teeth. 

“Brooding.”

A howl of laughter erupted from the demon, which caused Amity to jump slightly at the sound, staring as Boscha doubled over. Her face warmed with discomfort as the pink-haired girl finally stopped cackling, leaning back up for air as she wiped imaginary tears from her eyes.

“I thought… you’d have a stick... up your ass, but you’re  _ fucking _ hilarious!”

Amity just stared at her, deadpan, as the demon wheezed.

“Are you done?”

Boscha held up a finger, letting out one last chuckle before brushing strands of hair from her face.

“Thank you for providing a small bit of entertainment in my miserable life, archangel.”

_ Fallen archangel. _

She didn’t bother correcting the girl, but did wonder for a second how she knew that Amity had been an archangel, rather than a regular angel.

“Glad I could be of service, demon.”

Things were quiet between them.

Below, she fixed her attention on the four angels building the cabin. The boys had made progress on the left wall, now using miracles to levitate the higher planks, where Viney and Luz hammered them into place. Somewhere along the way, Luz had lost her shirt, the angel now only clad in a tank top that was  _ much _ too small. Her tool belt hung low on her hips, revealing a strip of skin where the tank failed to cover.

Suddenly, the heat in her face wasn’t just due to her annoyance at Boscha.

_ No. _

_ You learned your damn lesson the first time. It doesn’t matter how good she looks, there will be no falling this time- _

“So, what’re you brooding about?”

Amity jumped, letting out a huff, wondering if it wouldn’t be a better idea to just get off the roof.

“Will you leave me alone?!”

Boscha grinned again.

“Not a chance. You’re fun to rile up.”

When she didn’t respond, the demon followed her gaze towards Luz, and her smile widened. Amity felt a bit of panic flare in her chest at the expression.

“Is it about her?”

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

_ Look what you’ve done now. _

Boscha must’ve taken her silence for a yes, by the way her grin was replaced with an overly smug look.

“Crush?”

_ Fuck.  _

“Get lost.”

“Nope! Ex-friend?”

She dragged a hand down her face, rubbing the space in between her eyes. Amity felt the beginnings of a headache.

“Friends, but now there’s weird tension?”

“No.”

“Estranged lover?”

“What? No!”

Boscha started laughing again while a throbbing formed behind her eyes.

“You know, she’s sort of cute. Not really my type, but if she means nothing to you, then I might give it a shot.”

Her fingernails scraped against the roof as she curled her hand into a fist, clenching her teeth as a strange blend of emotions flooded her chest. She wanted to sink her fist into Boscha’s teeth for even insinuating such a thing.

The idea of Luz being with someone else, especially the demon, made Amity feel sick to her stomach.

“What is  _ wrong  _ with you?”

Boscha’s face was suddenly wiped of its smirk, and her eyes grew cold.

“Probably the inherited archangel arrogance. I’m sure you know all about it.”

She suddenly felt like someone hand planted a fist in her gut, knocking all the wind out of her at the demon’s words.

“What’s what supposed to mean?”

The pink-haired girl turned towards her, a scowl resting just as easily on her face as the smirk did.

“Oh, didn’t I mention it? I’m not actually a demon. I’m half archangel, half demon.”

She was silent for a moment.

“A freak.”

_ But Luz isn’t a freak… so I guess that extends to you as well. _

Boscha’s next words came out bitter, such a contrast to her earlier humor.

“My mom, the archangel half, gives birth to me and says “Oh, she’s hideous! Three eyes… what an abomination. Give her to her father!”. Or, that’s what I imagine, since she hung herself before I could ask. Couldn’t live with the knowledge that she had given birth to a bastard child apparently.”

The demon half-breed lifted her head upwards, yelling towards the sky.

“What’d you expected when you hooked up with a three eyed demon, you bitch!”

Amity was silent as Boscha suddenly stood, making her way back towards the ladder. The girl turned and faced her, wearing a slightly pained grin.

“You know, you’re not half bad company.”

She gave Amity a sloppy salute.

“Good luck with your angel.”

Then, the half-breed was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Amity and Boscha getting piss drunk*
> 
> Amity: cheers to fucking awful parents!
> 
> Boscha: *hiccups* cheers i'll drink to that bro. at least one of mine is dead
> 
> Amity: mine probably both are at this point
> 
> Boscha: lucky bastard
> 
> Y'all have NO IDEA how much I love their dynamic in this fic


End file.
